Boys Like Him

Back in his orbit

He kissed me with an intensity that took my breath away, the force of his lips igniting a storm of emotions within me. The rawness of his touch, coupled with an urgency that spoke of longing and desperation, shattered the walls I had built around my heart. Each doubt, each lingering resentment, every painful memory morphed into the electric sensation of his hands tangling in my hair, his mouth moving against mine with a fierce determination, and the weight of his body pressing closely against me.

"I know," he whispered, his breath warm against my lips, his voice low and filled with a trembling urgency. "I know... and I promise, I won't let this slip away again, not without you understanding every part of it. You belong to me, Cherry. Only to me."

In that moment, all the emotions surged within me. The relentless push and pull, the heavy guilt intertwined with a desperate longing, the sweet manipulation I had been fighting against for the past two weeks, all crashed over me like a powerful tide that I had vowed to resist. But as I looked into his earnest eyes, I felt myself succumbing, surrendering completely to the overwhelming wave of desire. I let myself drown in it.

I pulled back, finally gasping for air, tears still streaking my cheeks, and immediately hated myself for melting like this.

"You... you can't just show up like that," I whispered, my voice trembling. "You... you left me, Lloyd. You humiliated me. You-"

"Nyelle... " His hand cupped my cheek, thumb brushing gently over my tears. "I was... dealing with things you don't know about."

My hands trembled, wanting to shove him away, wanting to collapse into him, wanting to scream at him, wanting to cry... wanting everything at once.

"You're... you're playing with me," I whispered, voice breaking. "You know exactly what you're doing. And I... I can't-"

"Shh," he whispered, his voice low and intimate. His thumb grazed the curve of my jaw, the touch both firm and gentle, sending a shiver of warmth down my spine. "Do you really think I'm joking? I'm not. You've been on my mind every single moment. I've found myself wondering if you're taking care of yourself, if you're finding time to eat or get some rest... I've missed you so deeply that it felt like a physical ache."

He leaned closer, that sultry, dangerous voice of his wrapping around me like a trap. "I can't walk away from you. Not now, not ever. And you... You can fight me all you want, but I'm not leaving."

Then he kissed me again. I didn't fight it. I let myself sink into it. I pressed my hands to his chest, feeling the warmth, the steady, maddening beat of his heart, letting it anchor me even as it shattered me.

He held me tighter, whispering my name over and over, and I knew, knew that despite every rational bone in my body screaming run, my heart had already started to forgive, already started to forget, already started to crave him again.

His hand moved slowly up and down my back.

"You see?" he murmured against my hair. "We're okay."

We're okay.

I pulled back slightly.

"We're not okay," I replied, but my voice didn't match the words. "You hurt me."

"I know," he admitted. "And I hate that I did."

"I should've told you more," he continued, brushing his thumb under my eye, catching the last of my tears. "But you have to understand, Nyelle... I don't let people in like that. Not easily."

I swallowed.

He stepped closer again, closing the space I didn't even realize I was trying to create.

"You've drawn more from me since you stepped into my life than anyone else has in years," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with vulnerability. "And honestly? It terrified me."

I felt a tight knot form in my chest, a mix of anxiety and hurt.

"I wasn't sure how to cope with it all," he continued, his gaze cast down, filled with regret. "I know I messed things up. But to see you walk away like that, blocking me out as if I was nothing to you? That stung."

His voice dipped, just slightly.

"I didn't..." I began, but the words tangled in my throat.

Suddenly, the anger that had fueled the fire in my chest was overshadowed by a different emotion-self-doubt.

In that moment, I realized I was no longer facing the guy who had once humiliated me. Instead, I was standing before someone whose expression revealed that I had caused him pain as well, a look that mirrored what I had felt all along.

"I just... needed space," I said weakly.

"And I would've given you that," he replied immediately. "If you'd just told me."

"I'm not your enemy, Nyelle," he murmured.

"I don't want to fight you," he added. "I just want... us. Whatever this is."

Whatever this is.

I should've remembered everything Mariah said, everything I promised myself.

But standing there... with his hands warm on my skin, his voice low and steady, his eyes locked on mine like I was the only thing that mattered...

It didn't feel like a mistake.

"You make it really hard to stay mad at you," I whispered.

A small smile tugged at his lips.

"Good," he murmured.

And just like that...

I was back in his orbit.

That thought followed me all the way back into my apartment like a ghost with patience.

He stepped inside after me quietly, closing the door with careful hands. For a second, neither of us moved. The room felt too small for everything we had dragged into it my anger, his silence, those two weeks of absence, and the stupid, humiliating fact that one apology, one broken look, one kiss, had been enough to c***k me open again.

I stood with my back to the door, arms wrapped around myself, still breathing too hard.

He looked worse inside the light.

"You changed the place."

It took me a beat to understand what he meant.

My living room.

I had moved the lamp. Pushed the couch back. Replaced the throw pillows. Taken down the framed polaroid strip from the wall because it had somehow started to feel like a witness. It had been small things.

"I was trying to breathe in here again," I replied.

He nodded, almost like he was accepting a punishment he knew he had earned. "Makes sense."

Silence settled again.